


i close my eyes until i see (i don't need hands to touch me)

by notcaycepollard



Series: the grace in monsters [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Sea Monsters, soft mythical bucky barnes, the ol' asgard magic trope, this is the dumbest thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: Every month or so, there’s this recurring thought that runs through Sam’s head.
  This is your life now.
Which is why, he thinks bleakly, it’s utterly fucking typical that as they’re investigating something weird and probably janky some civilian called in over on Rockaway Beach, Sam looks away one minute and when he looks back, Bucky is a tentacle monster.“Uh,” Sam says. “Dude. You.”Bucky - it’s still Bucky, Jesus Christ - waves a tentacle.





	

Every month or so, there’s this recurring thought that runs through Sam’s head.

_This is your life now._

Congratulations, Sam, you’ve been chosen by fate to help a ninety-five-year-old war hero defeat secret Nazis and his brainwashed metal-arm-death-stare childhood BFF. _This is your life now_. It doesn’t end there. Robot bees in Central Park. A credible but ultimately pointless threat from a splinter group set on bringing about the Maya apocalypse. Giant telepathic pigeons up in New Jersey. _This is your life now_.

Falling for metal-arm-death-stare guy, that’s less inevitable, but apparently that’s his life too, these days, and Bucky is actually pretty good at a lot of things including making real good pancakes and the way he kisses Sam just behind the ear. All in all, Sam’s okay with that unexpected development.

Which is why, he thinks bleakly, it’s _utterly fucking typical_ that as they’re investigating something weird and probably janky some civilian called in over on Rockaway Beach, Sam looks away one minute and when he looks back, Bucky is a tentacle monster.

“Uh,” Sam says. “Dude. You.”

Bucky - it’s _still Bucky_ , Jesus Christ - waves a tentacle.

“What,” Sam says, utterly dumbstruck. “ _What_.” Bucky ripples what _would_ be his shoulders in a clear _don’t fuckin’ ask me, pal_ , gesture. Helpfully points one tentacle at a circle of runes scratched into the sand at his feet. Sam sighs.

“Hey, guys,” he says over comms, “we, uh. We got a problem. What, exactly, was the call-in we got, again?”

( _Sea monsters_ , the caller had said, _seriously, sea monsters, did my acid just kick in or are there honest to god sea monsters walking down the pier._ Sam really, really wishes their acid had just kicked in.)

“I mean,” Sam says when Steve and Nat catch up, “this is Asgard shit, right? It’s gotta be.”

“Looks like it,” Steve agrees. Glances up at the sky. “Thor? Buddy? Now would be a real good time for you to join us.” They wait, hopefully, for a couple minutes. Sam looks sideways at Bucky. Bucky looks sideways at him.

The green really does not suit him, Sam thinks bleakly, and hopes to god Thor can fix this.

 

“Ægir,” Thor says as soon as he arrives. “My friends, this is the work of Ægir. And my fool brother, of course.”

“Of course,” Sam echoes. “Your brother. You know, I kind of didn’t expect anything else.” Natasha stifles a laugh, shifts her weight. It’s early fall but still overly warm on the beach; Sam’s sweating under his tac gear and wings. They had plans to go upstate today, Sam thinks sadly. Him and Bucky in a cute little cabin. Wineries. _Apple picking_.

 _This is your life now_ , he thinks, and sighs again.

“So, uh, who _is_ Eyegeer,” Steve asks, and Thor blinks a little like Steve's mispronunciation is causing him actual pain.

“Ægir is a sea jötunn,” he explains. “Eons ago Loki killed his servant Fimafeng. It appears he has worked magic to create a replacement. Or an army of replacements, perhaps. Anyone who walks into the runelines.”

“Great,” Sam says, “that’s. That’s _great_. Bucky’s some kind of _sea monster_ because your brother can’t quit being a total jerk.” Bucky taps Sam on the arm, his tentacle unpleasantly moist. Goes through a series of complicated gestures. Sam frowns. “Come on,” he says, “you know I’m terrible at charades,” and Bucky starts again, even more exaggerated. “Are you gonna stay like this?” he guesses, and Bucky nods vigorously. “Is he gonna stay like this?” _He better not stay like this_.

“I can fix it,” Thor says confidently. “But he will need to remain in water until I do so, lest he dry out and injure himself in this form.”

“We’ll get a bucket chain going,” Steve says, immediately buoyed into action, as if Bucky is a _beached whale_ and not someone who is still perfectly capable of movement and conscious action. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Or we could go home and he can sit in the shower,” he suggests, and Steve deflates.

“Yeah,” he says, “okay, that’s probably a better call.”

“I’ll bring the car round,” Nat says. “Barnes, don’t drip on my upholstery.” Bucky makes an obscene gesture involving suckers, and she cackles with laughter. Sam looks at Steve. Back at Bucky.

“This is my life,” Sam sighs. “How is this my life.”

Bucky mournfully waves one tentacle in agreement. Steve looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry or take approximately five hundred photos for later mocking. All of the above, maybe.

“I mean, am I the only one who noticed,” Sam says out loud as he’s squished into the back seat of an SUV next to someone who seems like they’re _even handsier_ now that they’ve got, like, ten hands. Tentacles. Fuck. Sam’s not even talking to anyone in particular. Just an observation, generally. “Am I the _only one_ who noticed. Why the arm. _Why the arm_.” The magic - the spell? - it changed everything else, he thinks. Why is the arm the only defining characteristic. What is the _underlying logic_ of this magic. Why.

Bucky pokes at his metal tentacle with one of his other tentacles like he’s curious. Wiggles it a little. It’s still got the _goddamn star_ on it.

 _This is your life nowwwwwwww_ , Sam hears, whistling softly in the wind.

 

When they get back to their apartment, Bucky shuffles sadly to the bathroom, leaving a damp trail in his wake. Sam looks at Steve and Nat, raises one eyebrow.

“So, uh,” he says, “that call-in said _monsters_ , right? In the plural? There are probably other people out there we should probably corral and contain.” He knows he doesn’t sound enthusiastic, like, at _all_. Sue him. His boyfriend is sitting in their shower and also has _suckers_ , for shit’s sake. This is not Sam’s best day ever.

“We’ll go,” Steve says, “I’ll call the others, it’ll be fine. You keep, uh, keep an eye on Bucky.”

 _It’s not like I’m going anywhere, Steve_ , Sam imagines Bucky drawling sarcastically, and that makes him sad, so he stops thinking about it. Shoos them out, changes out of his tac gear. When he pokes his head into the bathroom, Bucky is sitting under the shower head, letting the water stream down over him. He reaches up with one tentacle. Turns off the water. Tilts his head, and oh _god_ , Sam’s seen that gesture a hundred different times. _Hey, buster. What’s up?_ Still the same old Bucky. Just green, and covered in suckers, and with tentacles that Sam is _super definitely_ not thinking about in any kind of way other than _why does my boyfriend have tentacles, Jesus Lord._

“You wanna watch something?” he asks. They’re halfway through _Leverage_ , after all, and both of them are pretty into it. Bucky looks like he’s thinking about it. Nods. Sam smiles at him, goes to grab the laptop and a few cushions, the throw blanket from the couch. Sets himself up a nest in the bathroom, wedged in next to the shower cubicle, and hey, it’s not the most comfortable he’s ever been, but it’s okay. It’s fine.

They gotta stop every hour or so for Bucky to run the water again, and a couple of hours later Sam’s getting pretty hungry, so he goes to the kitchen, makes them some sandwiches. Bucky regards his cautiously.

“Oh, come on,” Sam says, “it’s ham and cheese on rye, baby, you _love_ ham and cheese on rye.” Bucky gives him a meaningful look. Holds up two tentacles. Sam stares at him, his own sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Oh. _Oh_. You got no opposable thumbs, huh.”

 _No_ , Bucky shakes his head, looking extremely morose, and that’s how Sam finds himself sitting curled up on the bathroom floor with a laptop and a blanket, feeding a depressed-looking sea monster a ham and cheese sandwich.

 _This is-_ the voice in his head starts, and Sam tells it to cram it.

 

They’re five episodes down on _Leverage_ , and Sam is really starting to get tired of the bathroom tiles, when Steve calls.

“Please tell me Thor’s got a fix,” Sam says, and Bucky waves his tentacles in emphatic agreement.

“Thor _thinks_ he’s got a fix,” Steve says, “he’s been talking to Wanda. They’ve figured something out. Maybe.” He sounds a little out of breath, perhaps even a bit pissed off. Probably his day hasn’t been as relaxing as Sam’s. Whatever. Sam’s been trying really hard all day to _not ever think about_ that one Japanese woodcut and the probability of that being his future love life, so.

“Do we… do we need to come over?” Sam asks. Flicks the phone onto speaker and sets it down on the tile between him and Bucky.

“Apparently not,” Steve reports. “Thor and Wanda think if it works, it should work on everyone from a distance. But, uh, clothes might be a casualty, so we’ve been trying to get everyone contained to avoid a whole bunch of awkward public nudity.”

“Luckily,” Sam says dryly, “that won’t be a problem here.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, sounding more than a little awkward, “okay, yeah. Okay, Wanda says they’re gonna get started in a couple minutes, so, uh. Fingers crossed?”

 _Fingers crossed_ , Sam thinks, and nods at Bucky. Bucky holds up five sets of tentacles twined around each other. Yeah, okay, _pal_. Way to show off there.

There’s a shivery sensation, and the smell of salt air and rotting seaweed and cold saltwater, and then Bucky is sitting stark naked and dripping wet in the bottom of their shower, looking dizzily disoriented. He has sand and bits of dark green weed stuck in his hair.

“Hey,” Sam murmurs, feeling extremely fond. Bucky shakes his hair out of his eyes. Wriggles his fingers like for a minute he thinks there should be more of them. Touches his own face. “Yeah, there you are, bucko. Good to be back, huh?”

“Aw, for shits sake,” Bucky complains, “I really liked the boxers I was wearing today.”

 

“Don’t touch me,” Sam says when all the excitement is over, “you still smell like calamari.” Bucky ignores him. Drapes himself over Sam’s chest, one leg flung up over Sam’s thigh.

“Don’t be silly,” he says, “you love salt and pepper squid.” Sam wrinkles his nose.

“I think you just ruined my favorite food,” he sighs, “you had to go there, didn’t you.”

“Aw, come on,” Bucky whines. Rests his chin on Sam’s shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? You weren’t even the one who took an exploratory vacation to the world of cephalopods, stop being so dramatic.”

“Bucky-” Sam says, and can’t quite finish. _I was afraid_ , he thinks, _of losing you_ , and it seems stupid, _so_ stupid, but- _this is his life now_ , is the thing.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky says. Makes a face. “What, you wouldn’t stick with me even if I had tentacles forever? Come on, you’re missing out, those things were _sensitive_. And pre-lubed. And the suckers, Sam, I could have given you the best love bites ever.”

“That’s disgusting,” Sam tells him, “that’s truly disgusting, Barnes, I’m gonna try and forget everything you just said.”

“Okay, fair,” Bucky concedes. “Seriously, though. You wouldn’t?”

“I don’t love you that much,” Sam says, but his mouth twitches despite himself.

“But you do love me,” Bucky grins, pressing in closer, and then he grimaces. “Fuck, you’re right about me smelling like squid. I gotta take another shower. Want to join me?”

Why not, Sam thinks, and follows Bucky back into the bathroom. Lets Bucky peel his shirt off and drag him in under the hot water. This is a significantly better way to spend time in the bathroom together, seriously.

“So I was thinking we should remodel,” he says casually, and Bucky pauses as he’s lathering shampoo into his hair. Raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, thoughtful. Takes over on washing Bucky’s hair, and Bucky groans in pleasure, goes limp against Sam. Oh yeah, this is a _way_ better way to spend time in the bathroom together. Especially with how Bucky’s got _hands_ , again, and opposable thumbs, yes. _Yes_. “Yeah, it took me five hours but I really realized I fucking hate this tile motif.”

“It’s hideous,” Bucky agrees, mouthing a line of kisses up the curve of Sam’s neck. “We should get rid of it. Definitely. Oh _god_ , yes, do that again.”

They stay in the shower until the water runs cold. Fall into bed, and Bucky immediately climbs all over Sam the way he always does. God, he’s a limpet even when he doesn’t have suckers on all his arms.

“This was supposed to be our _date weekend_ ,” Sam sighs. Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you to the aquarium next weekend, sweetheart,” he suggests, giving Sam the biggest shit-eating grin he can manage, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Will you just,” he says, managing to be casual about it, and Bucky nods, wriggles in a little closer, lets his gaze turn from teasing to soft.

“Sam,” he says, and kisses Sam just behind the ear right in the exact spot he knows Sam is weak for. Pulls back and considers Sam's face for a minute. “Thanks,” he murmurs, and Sam nods, drags him in so they can make out properly now that neither of them smell like seafood of any variety, and _this is Sam's life now_ , but the thing is, Sam thinks, all things considered, this is a pretty fucking good life to have.

**Author's Note:**

> i swear to god i did not plan this at all but some tumblr anon sent me an ask today: _not a prompt, just an image that needed sharing: soft tentacle monster bucky barnes_ and then of course my brain was all, NOT A PROMPT, HUH
> 
> and I messaged my BFF like I'M GONNA DO THE THING and then started wheezing with laughter at my desk at work
> 
> anyway A N Y W A Y everyone writing in MCU has to have the "Asgard magic does dumb stuff" fic in their oeuvre, right, it's practically a _requirement_
> 
> I am [on tumblr](http://notcaycepollard.tumblr.com/)


End file.
